Blood and Roses
by Dana Hale
Summary: The team is involved in a case where someone is sending killer flowers. Olivia battles her past and Peter is there to help.
1. Chapter 1

TITLE: Blood and Roses

RATING: T

SPOILERS: The Cure

SUMMARY: The team is involved in a case where someone is sending killer flowers while Olivia battles her past and Peter is there to help.

DISCLAIMER: Characters not mine, blah blah blah, don't sue me, blah blah blah

* * *

I need your love but it comes out wrong  
I try to live but I don't belong  
I close my eyes and I see  
Blood and roses

--The Smithereens

* * *

"Oh, good morning Agent Dunham!" Walter exclaimed as Olivia quietly walked into the lab.

It was early morning and Olivia had hoped she could just sneak in to grab her notes in her office and then head back out without seeing anyone.  
But Walter, Peter, and Astrid apparently wanted to get a head-start on their lab work for the day as they were all busy at their stations.

"What's with the sun glasses?" Peter asked Olivia as he began prepping the Petri dishes for his father. "Have a little too much fun last night?"

Olivia really wished he hadn't noticed. "Um, I...I'm just gonna grab some of my notes and go," she said sheepishly as she pointed to her office. "I've got a busy day."

"Wow, hangover that bad, huh? No quick comeback? Not even a smile?" Peter joked.

When Olivia started to quietly walk to her office door without saying anything further, Peter realized something was wrong.  
He wasn't the only one that noticed.

"What's with her?" Astrid asked after Olivia was out of ear-shot.

"Maybe she needs some of my special strawberry concoction to cheer her up," Walter suggested as he turned off the blender and poured the  
thick pink liquid into a tall glass. After taking a huge gulp of the mixture, he said "I know it makes me happy!"

Peter smiled. "It makes you happy because you lace it with..."

"Nevermind, son!" Walter cut in quickly.

Gene the Cow let out a long "mooooo" after hearing Walter shout.

Olivia came back into the lab carrying a large stack of folders and papers. She hurried towards the front door and was going to leave without saying goodbye.

"Need some help with that?" Peter asked as he noticed she was having trouble opening the door with her arms full. Before he reached her, the top stack of  
folders fell out of her grasp and onto the floor. She reached down to pick them up, but in doing so she accidently dropped the rest of the stack. Papers were  
now scattered everywhere.

"Here, let me help you," Peter knelt down and started picking up the mess. Olivia bent down too, a little too fast. Her sunglasses shifted down on her face and  
hung off the tip of her nose, exposing her eyes.

"What the hell....?" Peter instantly stopped what he was doing when he saw what Olivia had been hiding.

Olivia stood up and pushed her sunglasses back to their rightful position. But Peter was quick to grab them off her face, revealing a badly bruised swollen black eye.

"'Livia, what happened? Who did this to you?" Peter asked with concern.

Astrid and Walter came over to listen in on the conversation when they saw her battered face.

"I'm fine. It's nothing," Olivia quickly replied.

"Oh my. Does it hurt? I can give you something for the pain," Walter said.

"I have to go," Olivia grabbed her papers, opened the front door, and started walking down the hallway.

"Wait!" Peter ran after her. He gently grabbed her arm. "Olivia..."

He said her name so tenderly that she had to stop; she couldn't keep walking away. She knew he wasn't going to let this go.

"Okay, fine, I'll tell you," Olivia relented.

Peter let go of her arm and relaxed a little, waiting for her response.

"It's nothing, really. I got called out last night to help on a drug bust. They needed extra backup. So we had them surrounded, but one got away.  
I went after him, tackled him to the ground. But he wouldn't give up without a fight. My head got in the way of his fist. I won though...eventually."

Peter squinted his eyes at her. She definitely had on a poker face. He knew her poker face now; she had it on when they first met. He somehow knew  
not to push the matter any further, though. At least for now.

"You sure you're alright?"

"Yeah," Olivia stated simply. "Look, I'll see you later, okay? I'll call you when I'm ready to question some of these suspects."  
She gestured her head down to the stack of papers she held and turned to walk away.

Peter was left standing in the hallway with his arms crossed, watching her leave and wondering what really happened to her.

* * *

"Peter Bishop," Peter said into his cell phone after flipping it open.

"It's Broyles. I've been trying to contact Dunham but she's been unreachable. Do you know where she is?"

"I saw her earlier this morning in the lab, but she left rather quickly. She said she was going to work on the suspect list."

"Well if you see her, tell her there's been another incident. I'm having the body shipped to the lab. It should be there shortly. We need to know cause of death."

"You think it's the same M.O.?" Peter asked.

"We believe it's related. There were a dozen red roses next to this victim, just like the first. So your father still thinks that the roses were sprayed with a bio-weapon?"

"Yes. Actually, he's got it narrowed down to a toxin called Sarin which was used in World War II and most recently stockpiled in Iraq. It's odorless but deadly when inhaled.  
Ironically, this stuff was outlawed in 1993 by the Chemical Weapons Convention. Walter thinks that someone still has access and is altering a version of the original  
compound to make it even stronger."

"Stay on it. Keep me informed. And if you find Dunham, let her know I need to speak with her."

"Yes sir..." Peter paused, wanting to ask him more about the drug bust Olivia mentioned. He decided he should broach the subject tactfully.  
"I'm sure you want to speak to her...I mean, to check up on her...with what she went through last night on the drug bust."

"Drug bust?" Broyles asked in surprise.

"You didn't have her going out on a drug bust last night?" Peter's heart sank. She lied to him, again.

"No. What's going on Bishop?"

"I'm not sure. Just that she has a nasty black eye and said that some guy fought her during a drug raid."

"She okay?"

"Physically, she will be. But obviously she's not telling the whole truth."

"Watch over her, see what you can find out." Broyles hung up the phone.


	2. Chapter 2

Olivia sat in front of a computer screen in the bullpen at Boston headquarters. Frustrated and tired, she ran a hand through her hair  
and leaned back in the chair. Staring at the blinking cursor on the screen next to the words "Name Not Found," she wondered how it  
could be that she had all of the best resources at her finger tips for finding missing persons, but she had yet to uncover one single  
fact as to the whereabouts of the one man in her life that seemingly knew how to track her down whenever he felt like it. In a  
random parking lot, of all places.

He knows it's a game and he's good at it. He appeared out of nowhere and hit her so hard that she didn't see it coming, and then he  
disappeared while she lay on the ground in a daze. And it wasn't even her birthday. What was she supposed to do? Call the cops?  
File a complaint? Get a restraining order? No, she wanted to take care of this all by herself, once and for all. She was FBI for goodness sake.

Looking down at her watch, she realized she spent the whole afternoon working on a personal pursuit. She needed to get back to the  
lab and concentrate on their current case. Olivia thought that if she couldn't solve her own problem at the moment, she could at least  
throw some energy into finding the S.O.B. that murdered Susan Donavon by sending her chemically-altered deadly flowers. If this was  
part of The Pattern, Olivia knew she needed to stay focused.

* * *

"This is the second victim, Opal Daniels, age 32. Single, lived alone, found dead in her apartment by her landlord," Broyles said as two men  
from the coroner's office wheeled the body into the lab.

Walter put on a fresh pair of latex gloves and looked absolutely giddy as he peeled the sheet back off the victim's face.

"She was a pretty girl," Walter commented. Spreading open her eyes, he said, "Such a shame that she would succumb to a horrible death,  
first experiencing difficulty in breathing, then nausea, drooling, loss of bodily functions including defecation and urination, followed by  
suffocating in a series of convulsive spasms."

"Nice, Walter," Peter cringed. "Thank you for painting that lovely picture for us."

Broyles handed Peter an evidence bag. "These are some of the roses that were found next to her. Have them analyzed for traces of  
the bio-weapon."

"I'm on it," Peter grabbed the bag of flowers and headed toward his work table.

Olivia came through the doors of the lab in a rush. "Astrid, did you get anywhere with finding out which florist the roses came from?"

Before Astrid could answer, Olivia looked around the room and noticed Broyles and Walter standing in front of the latest victim.

"What have we got here?" Olivia asked.

The room went quiet as everyone stared back at Olivia, who no longer hid the fact that she had a gruesome black eye. After staring at  
her a moment longer, Broyles answered. "A second victim...Olivia, can I see you privately?" He started walking to her office at the back  
of the lab.

Olivia sensed that everyone present was more concerned for her at the moment than the poor girl lying dead on the cold metal table.

"Sure," Olivia said quietly as she followed Broyles.

Peter's eyes trailed Olivia as she left the room. He wished at that moment to be a fly on the wall of her office. She never did call him back  
that afternoon, which made him worry all the more about what kind of predicament she had gotten herself into.

Once in the privacy of Olivia's office, Broyles asked, "What is going on with you, Dunham? Your phone has been off all day, and someone  
took the liberty of smashing your face in. Now you can lie to Peter about it, but I know it didn't happen in a drug raid..."

"Sir, with all due respect..."

"With all due respect, Dunham," Broyles cut in, "it is part of my duty to make sure my agents are safe and protected. Now what happened?"

"Peter talked to you about this?" Olivia asked, ignoring his question. She was getting angry.

"He is concerned, and so am I."

"Well, don't be. This has nothing to do with you or Peter, or my job. It's personal and it's going to stay that way. It's being handled. I am still  
perfectly capable of performing my duties, and we are wasting time here talking about this. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get back to my  
team. If you haven't noticed, we have a case to solve."

Olivia walked out of the office with her head held high. She proceeded towards Walter who filled her in on the body he was examining.

Peter snuck out to the front hallway where Broyles was preparing to leave. "Did she tell you anything?"

Broyles sighed. "She's being obstinate."

Peter frowned. "Of course she is. Nothing new there."

"She said it was personal. I have a feeling she's going to want to talk about eventually. Tread carefully, Bishop."


	3. Chapter 3

"So he's never tried to contact you? Are you sure?" Olivia asked her sister over the phone.

"Yes, Olivia, I'm sure. Actually, I haven't thought about him in a very long time. I barely remember him; I was so little when all that happened.  
What's this about? Why are you bringing him up again?" Rachel asked, confused.

"He, uh, ran into me the other day. I just want to make sure you and Ella are safe. I don't think it's wise for the two of you to come over this  
weekend. I don't mean to scare you, but he's still a very dangerous man."

"Why? What happened? What did he say?"

"It's not what he said, it's what he did," Olivia said cautiously, not wanting to worry her sister. Just as she said it, she looked up in the doorway  
of her office and saw Peter standing there. She wondered how long he'd been listening.

"Olivia, what? What did he do? Are you okay?" Rachel's voice was panicky.

"I'm fine. Really. Um, look, I need to get back to work, Peter's here. I'll call you later, okay?" Before Rachel could speak, Olivia hung up.

"Was that Rachel?" Peter asked as he walked in and headed toward the coffee pot to refill his mug.

Olivia quickly started to shuffle papers around her desk in an effort to try to look busy. "Yup," she answered simply. Not wanting to look at him,  
she pretended to find the file in front of her particularly interesting and readily engrossed herself in reading its contents.

Peter stared at her while he sipped his hot coffee. "Still don't want to talk about it, do you."

She knew he meant her black eye. "Nope," she said shortly, still without a glance up from her paperwork.

She was being cold to him now deliberately. It was starting to piss him off. He sighed out loud and set his mug down on the table. He pulled the  
chair out opposite Olivia and sat down.

The fact that he stayed silent and just stared at her was starting to piss _her_ off. She threw the file that she was reading down on the table in  
frustration. "Why did you tell Broyles?" She finally looked up at him, her eyes stern, her arms crossed.

"That's why you're mad?" Peter asked incredulously. "Well if you're going to be mad at somebody, you should be mad at the loser who gave you  
that shiner, not at me who actually is just concerned for you."

"I told you I'm fine. Could you please just drop this?"

"Did Greg do it? Is he still trying to take Ella away from Rachel?"

At the mention of Ella, Olivia's heart softened. She noted that Peter really did have a concerned look on his face. Why was it so horrible for her to  
have someone care about her and her family's well-being? She knew she was being difficult, but Olivia could not help the fact that she liked to  
keep her privacy on certain issues.

"No," she said softly, "It wasn't Greg."

Peter sensed she was telling the truth. When she didn't offer any more information, Peter added, "I want you to know that I only told Broyles  
because I was worried about you, and he would have noticed your eye sooner or later."

"I know, I'm sorry. I just...I can't talk about it right now. Do you understand?"

"I told you before, Olivia, I'm here if you need me."

Olivia nodded and pursed her lips.

Changing the subject, Peter said, "So are you getting anywhere on a motive for the case?"

"Not really. I interviewed some of the victims' relatives and friends. Both were single and lived alone, and neither of them had steady boyfriends.  
They were, however, using the same online dating service. The murderer was probably an online stalker."

"So you don't think this is part of a bigger scheme to promote the use of a bio-weapon?"

"Why target single women with a bio-weapon? I mean, what would be the point? Most of what we've already dealt with targets the public masses."

"It's just that Sarin is some pretty heavy stuff," Peter explained. "No ordinary online stalker would even know how to get his hands on it. There has  
to be something special about this guy, that he would have the knowledge of it, let alone have access to it. It begs the question why he's using Sarin  
at all. He could just kill the old fashion way, like with a gun. But he chose to use an outlawed bio-weapon. Kind of puts a new spin on the phrase  
'stop and smell the roses,' doesn't it?"

"So how much do you know about Sarin? Walter filled me in on how it was being stockpiled in Iraq. Did you ever come into contact with any when  
you were over there?"

"By the time I was there, it wasn't being used anymore. Of course I heard stories, though, of it being secretly transported out of the country.  
There were so many caravans moving across the desert, and all those roadside bombings. Who knows what actually got through and what didn't."

"So what you're saying is our suspect could be Military?"

"Possibly."

"Hey guys," Astrid popped her head in the office. "I have something you might want to see!"

"What is it?" Olivia asked.

"Come here," Astrid said. "I'll show you."

Peter and Olivia quickly followed her to the computer out in the lab.

"I asked the PD to send me the description of the flower delivery guy that Opal's neighbor saw. They sent me this sketch," Astrid pulled up the email  
and clicked on the attachment.

"Did they run it through the database?" Olivia asked as she looked at the drawing on the computer screen.

"Yup. Turns out he's a homeless guy who has a record for stealing. The cops know where he hangs out, so they're bringing him in for questioning right  
now. They think he was probably paid by the suspect to deliver the flowers."

"Let's go!" Olivia said to Peter.


	4. Chapter 4

He couldn't believe how easy it had been to pick her lock. Shouldn't she know better, as an FBI agent, that she should  
have better protection on her own home? After all, she probably made a lot of enemies by locking up the bad people,  
putting people in prison. He hoped that she could see past the bad in him. He meant well. He really did. His love for  
her and her mother just came out wrong. He couldn't control his emotions. All he ever wanted was her attention. Her  
affection. To hear her call him "Dad." Instead she stood in front of him that fateful night with a shotgun and fired three  
bullets into him. And because in his sick mind violence was the only way he knew how to project his feelings, he was  
almost proud of her for shooting him. He had a love/hate relationship with his step-daughter, not unlike the kind he had  
with her mother.

He walked through the door and fumbled his way in the dark to her dining room table. "This will get her attention," he said  
proudly as he placed the dozen red roses in the middle of the table. He pulled out the pen and pad of paper from his coat  
pocket and scribbled a message that he hoped would touch her heart.

* * *

"No, that's okay...could you just tell Broyles that we've got an address for our suspect," Olivia said into her phone while driving  
her SUV. "The homeless guy was able to give a location. We're heading there now...okay, thanks Astrid."

Olivia hung up and glanced over at Peter in the passenger seat. He was looking over the file again of the first victim, Susan Donavon.  
Olivia cleared her throat and sat up a bit straighter in her seat. "You know, my mother's name was Susan," she said sadly.

Peter looked up at her, surprised that she would mention something personal. He remained quiet, hoping she would continue.

Olivia put her eyes back on the road. "I've been really missing her lately. She's been gone for so long now that I can hardly remember  
what her voice sounded like. It makes me feel...I don't know...like she's slowly fading away from me and there's nothing I can do about it."

"You're her daughter, Olivia. She'll always be a part of you," Peter replied thoughtfully. "I wish I could have met her. I bet you two were  
a lot alike. Unlike me and my father, of course!"

That got a smile out of her, for which Peter was grateful.

"Oh I don't know," Olivia replied. "She had a way of settling for things; she never fought for what she really wanted out of life. Me, well,  
you know I don't take 'no' for answer if I want something bad enough."

"Yeah, I kind of remember something about you traveling across the ocean to find me in Iraq and then you somehow managed to talk me  
into leaving to go get my estranged father out of an insane asylum. You wouldn't take 'no' for an answer then."

"But you see how right I was about it now though!"

"Now who's being the smart ass?" Peter grinned mischievously.

Olivia made a left-hand turn down a back alley in the outskirts of town and put the SUV in park off to the side. "This is the place," she said.

Peter and Olivia both got out of the car and looked up at the three-story brick building in front of them. The bricks were crumbling and the  
fire escapes on the second and third floors were rusty and barely attached.

"It looks abandoned," Peter noted.

They walked to the only entrance that was visible, a wooden side door with a rusty door knob. Olivia tried the door and it opened with a creak.  
"I think it used to be a storage building."

When they entered the building, they were quick to notice there were no lights. Olivia whipped out her flashlight and also felt the need to have  
her gun in hand. The first floor was pretty much empty. Cold concrete floors and walls were covered in dust and spider webs. They headed for  
the fragile staircase that was seen at the far end of the room.

"Let's go up," Olivia suggested.

"Ladies first. Besides, you have the gun," Peter said.

Olivia's first step up was met with a groan of the old rotted staircase underneath her. Something about this place was starting to creep her out.  
Peter followed closely behind her, ready to catch her if she slipped. They slowly climbed to the top and made it safely to the second floor.

"Peter, look!" Olivia gasped. Before them was a table full of fresh-cut red roses. To the left was a wall of shelves that were full of books, boxes,  
bottles, and vials. To the right was a desk covered with papers, pictures, notes, and journal books.

"This is definitely our guy," Peter said. He picked up one of the pictures on the desk and Olivia shined her flashlight on it. "It's Opal, the second  
victim. Looks like he was stalking her." A bulletin board hanging above the desk was covered with pictures of both victims going about their  
everyday lives.

"I don't see pictures of anyone else. That could mean he hasn't picked out his next victim yet, but he will. He's obviously getting ready for another  
attack. These flowers are freshly cut. We should take some of those vials back to the lab," Olivia said, pointing to the wall on the other side of the  
room. "I'll call Broyles and get a surveillance team set up. We need to catch this guy coming back here."

As Olivia was on the phone, Peter found a lamp on the desk that actually worked. Light flooded the area, and an opened page from a spiral journal  
notebook caught his eye. In scribbled handwriting were the words "Cortexiphan Trials" at the top of the page. He flipped through some more pages,  
and a list of names appeared. When he saw the name "Olivia Dunham," he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Olivia finished up on the phone. "Okay, they're sending a team. Grab some vials and let's get back to the lab," she said to Peter.

"Olivia..." Peter gasped. He held the notebook in his hands and swallowed hard.

"What? What is it?" Olivia asked, concerned with Peter's shocked appearance.

"You need to see this," Peter said in a whisper.

Olivia slowly walked towards Peter, afraid of what he found. She carefully took the notebook from him and saw the concern on his face.  
When she looked down on the page in front of her, she froze. Her blood ran cold. She closed her eyes.

Peter gently placed his hand on her shoulder. "Maybe you should sit down," he said as he used his other hand to pull the chair out from under the desk.  
He nudged her body to sit, and she complied.

Olivia remained silent as she went through the notebook, page by page. She suddenly had a sick feeling that she knew this handwriting from somewhere.  
As she turned to the next page, a folded piece of paper that had been tucked under the binding came loose. She pulled the paper out and unfolded it.  
It was an official document, a waiver of liability, to be exact. It was full of legal terms and long paragraphs amounting to several pages long. Olivia skipped  
to the last page and read the last paragraph out loud to Peter.

"Furthermore, I give permission to release all medical records of my child, Olivia Dunham, and agree that I waive my right to hold liable Massive Dynamic and  
all its subsidiaries and employees for any risk of bodily injury including death, side effects, and all risks both known and unknown, regarding my child undergoing  
these drug trial tests. Signed, James Riley.

"James Riley?" Peter asked, confused.

Olivia's jaw was set. "My step-father," she said through gritted teeth.


	5. Chapter 5

"I should have known. God I've been so stupid," Olivia said, her voice showing signs of emotional turmoil. She stood quickly, throwing  
the chair behind her. She nervously paced around the room with her hand on her forehead. "The first victim's name was Susan. Susan  
was my mother's name. The second victim- Opal Daniels, her initials stand for my name. She even had long blonde hair...Son of a bitch!  
He did this to get my attention. He wants to kill me."

Peter stood in front of Olivia and grabbed her shoulders to stop her from pacing. "He gave you the black eye?" Peter questioned her  
with an intensity that showed his growing hatred for her step-father.

Olivia didn't answer. She didn't have to. He knew it was true by the look in her face.

"Well, he's not getting away with it," Peter vowed, already planning in his head how he'd get revenge.

"Peter, this isn't your battle. I know exactly where to find him, and I'm going to take care of it." Olivia broke out of Peter's grasp and ran  
down the staircase.

"Olivia, WAIT!" Peter ran after her, but she was too quick. By the time he reached her, she was already in her SUV starting the engine.  
She peeled out of the alley, screeching the tires as she made the turn, leaving Peter standing on the corner of the street.

"Damn it Olivia!" Peter cursed. He instantly pulled out his cell while running out to the main road to look for a taxi. When Broyles finally  
picked up, Peter said in a panic, "It's Peter. Long story short, I need immediate backup at Olivia's apartment. The suspect is her step-  
father, and he meant to kill her all along. She ran off without me. I'm pretty sure she's headed to her apartment and so is the suspect."

* * *

Olivia opened the door to her apartment and was not at all surprised to find that it was unlocked. She cautiously entered into the darkness,  
gun already drawn, and flipped on the light switch. The large vase of roses on her dining room table was the first thing that caught her eye.  
She instantly knew that he had been here, and her gut instinct told her that he was here now.

Walking quietly and slowly to the vase of roses, she kept her gun in front of her, looking right and left, over and under anything that was in  
her path.

"James?" she dared to speak. "I know you're here!"

Her call was met with silence. She reached down with one hand and grabbed the card that was next to the flowers. It read "I only wanted to  
love you. May these flowers smell as sweet as you are."

Sick bastard, she thought.

"James?" she called out again as she proceeded into the living room. She turned on the lamp next to the couch. The room appeared empty.  
Her breathing became faster as the adrenaline rush of the hunt took over her.

She strolled to the hallway while looking behind her and then in front of her. She crept up to the entrance of her bedroom. She heard a slight  
ruffling noise. He was in her bedroom. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, counted to three, opened her eyes, and then burst into her  
bedroom gun first. He was sitting in her chair next to the bed with a smirk on his face. The lights were out but she could see him from the dim  
light coming through the blinds.

"So nice to see you again, sweet Olivia," he stood and pointed his gun at her.

"You know I can't say the same, James," Olivia answered.

He moved closer to her and she took a step back.

"Stop right there," she said sternly. "If you're going to kill me, you're going to answer some questions first."

"Oh, I am going to kill you. I don't want to, but I have to. You leave me no choice."

"Why? Revenge for what I did to you when I was nine?"

"NO!"

His scream made her flinch slightly. She tried to keep her arms steady and her gun aimed straight ahead.

"No, you don't understand," he said more calmly. "You were going to be someone special, Olivia, but it didn't turn out right."

"The Cortexiphan Trials. It was you...YOU signed my life away. You gave me up to a SCIENCE EXPERIMENT! WHY?" Olivia shouted.

"You're upset. I can see that," James said sadly.

"TELL ME WHY, damn it, or I'm SHOOTING!" Olivia threatened.

"Not before I SHOOT YOU," he retaliated, his voice rising again, his arms shaking.

Olivia watched his trigger finger twitch. They both stood there with their guns aimed at each other, daring each other to shoot first. Olivia knew  
she had to gain control back.

"Ok, James. Settle down. I didn't mean to get upset," she said slowly but still not backing down with her gun. "Just tell me why. What was so  
special about me?"

He started moving towards her again. She kept backing away as he took more steps forward. They were now in the hallway.

"You were going to be the one. The one we were all counting on," he said with a crazed look in his eyes.

"Who's 'we'?" she asked as she was now walking backwards into the living room. She stumbled over the side table but quickly regained her stance.  
She remembered William Bell telling her that she was "the one."

"I'm going to share a secret with you, Olivia," he said as he finally stopped walking. "I'm one of them. I was born to be a soldier, not in this world,  
but one like it. Born to a life of violence. You were to be the ultimate weapon."

Olivia was having a hard time controlling her emotions. His words were scaring her. "What are you saying?" she asked as her eyes threatened to  
form tears.

"I wanted to love, Olivia. You and your mom and your sister. But they made me into something I didn't want to be. I had no choice but to let them  
use you, to make you into the one who would change it for the better."

"So why kill me now?" she asked in a whisper, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"YOU FAILED! BECAUSE YOU FAILED!" He was shaking his gun at her again, his mental state unraveling. "And now I have to kill you."

He pulled the trigger. The shot rang out, the bullet just missing Olivia. She dropped and rolled under the dining room table. Lying on her stomach,  
she propped herself up on her elbows, pointed her gun and hit James in the gut. He looked down at the wound and laughed.

"Something about this scenario seems familiar, Olivia. Are you going to finish the job this time, or don't you know how?" He ducked his head under  
the table to look Olivia right in the eyes, trying to intimidate her.

She punched him hard in the face, scrambled out from under the table, and grabbed the vase of roses. While he was still reeling on the ground from  
the punch she gave him, she threw the glass vase at his head and it smashed into several pieces. Flowers and water and glass flew everywhere.  
That gave her enough time to run over to him and kick him in the stomach where she shot him.

She was in disbelief when he stood up like nothing ever happened. He quickly regained his composure despite bleeding heavily from his mid-section.  
He pulled the trigger on his gun again, and this time the bullet just knicked her right arm. He smiled. He wanted to kill her slowly. That was plenty of  
incentive for her to fire one shot after another into him. Olivia became unglued when her clip ran out of bullets and he was still standing there, laughing.  
It was just like her and Charlie shooting at each other in the alley all over again. She quickly came to the realization that James wasn't talking crazy;  
he really was one of them.

James drew up his weapon knowing that she was out of bullets. He fired and hit her in the right shoulder as she took off running towards her bedroom.  
She couldn't think about the pain. She frantically opened her dresser drawer and found the extra clip that she kept safely hidden. She was nervously  
trying to put the clip in her gun when James walked into her bedroom.

Peter heard the gun blast just as he got out of the taxi in front of Olivia's building. He threw the money at the cab driver, slammed the car door, and  
sprinted into her apartment.


	6. Chapter 6

"OLIVIA!" Peter screamed as he tore through her apartment door at break-neck speed.

No one was around. What caught his immediate attention was the collection of blood stains on the carpet all around the dining room table.  
Peter's heart was in his throat. It became hard for him to breathe. With much dread, he proceeded cautiously around the table and saw the  
mess of flowers and the shattered glass vase that was lying on the floor.

"Olivia?" his voice cracked with worry. When his call to her was met with silence, he feared the worst.

He noticed a trail of blood leading out to the hallway. He was afraid to follow it, afraid of what it would lead to, afraid of seeing her lifeless  
body lying on the floor in a pool of blood. But he had to look. As he slowly approached the hallway, James jumped out at him, waving his gun  
madly. Blood still poured from his wounds that were inflicted on him by Olivia, but he was still very much alive.

Peter stood in shock of the monster before him. The only choice Peter had at the moment was to hold his hands up in surrender.

James was going to pull the trigger to kill him but then did a double-take. "You...it's YOU! You're not supposed to be here!"

"What did you do to Olivia?" Peter hissed. "WHERE IS SHE?"

"You're on the wrong side. Don't you know that? You shouldn't be here. I'm going to fix that," James spat.

"DID YOU KILL HER?" Peter's rage took over and he was ready to pounce. He was ready to take a bullet just so he could get closer to this man  
and rip his heart out.

"Yes. And I'm going to kill you too." James' finger squeezed the trigger. A shot rang out. Peter flinched and shut his eyes and waited for the  
bullet to smash into him.

It never did.

Peter opened his eyes and saw the bullet hole in the middle of James' forehead. James dropped dead instantly to the ground. Peter was  
confused until he looked up and saw Olivia standing in the entrance to the hallway, still half-holding her gun aimed at James with one hand.

At first Peter was relieved to see her standing there, but then he quickly noticed that she no longer had the strength to stand. Her gun  
slipped out of her hand, and in slow motion, her body slid down the side of the wall leaving a ghastly trail of crimson blood behind her on  
the white paint. Her eyes were flittering shut, and she let out a long painful cry as she grabbed her stomach when she hit the floor.

Peter was at her side in an instant, taking in all of her gunshot wounds...one to the arm, one to the shoulder, one to her stomach. Peter's hands  
were shaking as he grabbed her face and shouted her name in a desperate attempt to get her to open her eyes and look at him.

"Olivia, please look at me...PLEASE!' he begged.

It was difficult for her to keep her eyes open. Her eyelids felt so heavy, but she obeyed and found herself staring into the frantic eyes of Peter.

"I'm sorry..." she croaked. "I had to do this myself..."

"Help is on the way, Olivia. I already called for backup. You need to hang in there for me, okay? You're going to be just fine." His voice was  
trembling and he hoped he wasn't lying to her.

Peter shook off his coat, wadded it up, and used it as a pillow to prop up Olivia's head. The wound to her stomach was the worst, so he chose to  
clamp his hands together and press hard against her body there to try to stop the blood from flowing. She let out a muffled cry when she felt the  
pressure. Beads of sweat were starting to form on her forehead, and she was starting to shiver from the shock and the pain of it all.

"Olivia, just concentrate on my eyes, okay? Just keep looking at my eyes...keep breathing..."

The glassy stare from her eyes bore into him, sending him the chilling message that she couldn't hold on much longer. She gasped out his name  
when she recognized the fear in his eyes. He kept his gaze on her, not wanting to look down at his hands that were now covered in her blood.

The next few moments were a blur to Peter as the backup finally arrived. Olivia was whisked away from his grasp just as she was losing consciousness.


	7. Chapter 7

3 months later....

* * *

"You're not going to make me tie my shoes again, are you?" Olivia remarked while grabbing the ten pound bowling ball from Sam Wiess.

"Cute, but no. Get down on the floor. Lie on your back. Fifty crunches while holding the ball in front of you. You want to be fit for duty again, right?"

"You're crazy. I'm not doing this. I just got my stitches out today. This is going to rip me apart."

"Really. Okay. And just for doubting me, make it one hundred crunches. Come on, Dunham. I thought you were tough."

He certainly knew how to push her buttons. No one tells Olivia Dunham that she's not tough enough.

Olivia positioned herself on the hard floor of the bowling alley. Sam got down with her and held her feet. While exhaling hard she pushed her upper  
body off the floor. She kept her arms extended out and her hands holding tight to the bowling ball. When her back hit the floor to finish the first  
crunch, she winced.

"One. Ninety nine more to go," Sam grinned.

"Why do you seem to be enjoying this?" Olivia grunted out in between another crunch.

"Because I enjoy making you do things you don't want to do."

"That's very noble of you," Olivia seethed after crunch number three. Her insides were burning already.

"So your step father did this to you?"

"Oh here we go," Olivia said while breathing out and pushing up again. "Pop psychology session while...doing....crunches....in a...bowling alley."

"And how does that make you feel?" Sam quipped.

After another exertion, Olivia gasped, "I'm good with my...step father...he's dead now."

"Glad to hear you've come to terms with that."

Olivia stopped doing crunches to glare at Sam.

After a moment of silence, Sam said, "How many was that, ten? You should stop now."

"You said to do one hundred," Olivia said in her mean voice.

"I lied. You just got your stitches out. Go home." Sam got up from the floor and headed to the front desk. "See you tomorrow, same time."

Olivia propped herself up on her elbows in disgust.

_________

Short I know! More to come later...


	8. Chapter 8

As Olivia walked back to her car in the parking lot of the bowling alley, she was surprised to hear her cell phone chirp. She wasn't technically  
on active duty until next week, so she knew it couldn't be work-related. Reaching into her coat pocket and pulling out her phone, she smiled  
at seeing the name "P. Bishop" as the caller ID.

"Miss me?" she teased without even saying hello.

"You have no idea. It's been months without a case and Walter is driving me insane. I'm thinking of committing myself to St. Claires."

Olivia got in her car and stared at the bowling alley sign in the parking lot thinking about how Sam Weiss drives her insane.

"Maybe I'll join you," she sighed.

"What's that supposed to mean? Everything okay?"

She sensed worry in his voice and she should have known better than to cause him to wonder for the hundredth time over these past few  
months if she was really okay after everything that had happened.

"Yeah, it's just that my physical therapist is driving ME insane."

Peter laughed at first but then got serious. "He's not pushing you too hard, is he?"

"No, nothing like that. He's just really good at getting inside my head and it makes me want to kick his ass."

Peter smiled. He knew she didn't like being helped or controlled by others. "Sounds like he's doing his job, then!"

"Thanks for taking his side....So what's up?" Olivia asked, wondering why he called.

"Well, I have something for you and was wondering if I could stop by."

"Sure, but I'm not at home. I haven't had dinner. I'm starving. You want to meet somewhere?"

"How about our usual place, in about ten minutes?"

"See you there."

Their usual place was the corner bar. Ever since Olivia had been out of the hospital, Peter had been asking her out for breakfast every  
Saturday morning. Olivia didn't mind going because it gave her an excuse to get out of the house since she was on medical leave and  
bed rest. Peter certainly didn't mind that she accepted his invitation every weekend. It gave him the excuse to secretly keep an eye on  
her recovery and be there for her if she needed anything. But as these weekend breakfasts became more of a habit, their "excuses"  
faded away and they started to admit to themselves (but not to each other) that bottom line they just enjoyed each other's company  
and missed working together.

Peter arrived first and ordered a drink at the bar. It wasn't long before he saw Olivia walk through the door and their eyes met.  
She looked tired, but she smiled as she approached him. He noted that she seemed to be moving around easier.

"Hey! You want anything?" Peter asked her as he pointed to his drink.

"Can't yet. I'm still on one more week of pain meds."

"Bummer. Here's to one more week of pain meds." Peter lifted his glass and saluted her before taking the last gulp.

He followed her over to the nearest booth available. She noticed he was carrying a manila folder and he plopped it on the table  
without saying anything about it. After placing her order with the waitress, Olivia's curiosity couldn't be contained any longer. She sat on  
her hands, raised up her shoulders, pursed her lips, and stared at the folder.

"You're doing that thing again with your mouth," Peter said amusingly, watching her eyeball the folder.

"What did you bring me? A case?" Olivia asked excitedly.

"No. Well, kind of." Peter turned serious.

"What is it?"

Peter took a deep breath in and out before speaking. "Well, with you being on medical leave, I've had a lot of free time and I started to do  
some digging around on my own."

"Digging around on what?"

"Olivia, I know that you're really good at bottling things up that bother you. I do the same thing sometimes, and I got to thinking that if  
everything that happened with you and your step-father had happened to me, I would want some kind of closure."

"I have closure. He's dead," Olivia said flatly.

Peter looked into her eyes and gave her his famous deep penetrating gaze, the one that spoke directly to her heart. He could see right  
through her charade, and she knew it.

After a moment of silence, Olivia spoke up softly. "So what's in the folder?"

"Everything I could find on James. Where he's been all this time, who he worked with, details on how he came to know about the Cortexiphan  
Trials." He pushed the folder to her.

She opened the folder and scanned through the articles and various reports Peter had gathered.

"How did....I was never able to..." Olivia was stunned at the amount of information the file contained.

The waitress came back with her food. Olivia glanced at the greasy hamburger and fries and realized she wasn't hungry anymore.

Peter spoke after the waitress left. "James said something to me that night right before you shot him. He looked at me as if he recognized  
me and said that I was on the wrong side, that I wasn't supposed to be here."

"You two knew each other?" Olivia asked, surprised.

"I know, weird, huh? Turns out he did a stint in Iraq, same time I was there. That's where he got the Sarin and worked on his formula for  
the toxin he used on the flowers. I don't remember seeing him there, but he must have known who I was somehow."

"And the Cortexiphan Trials?"

"Your mother never knew. He signed you up all on his own. I was able to pick Walter's brain for that information. There's more..." Peter said  
cautiously.

"What?"

"When the FBI went back to his hideout to clean the place up, they found a ZFT manuscript. And when Walter performed the autopsy, he found  
three holes in the roof of James' mouth, and there were trace amounts of mercury in his blood."

Olivia closed the file and sat in silence.

"You okay?" Peter asked gently.

"Thank you, Peter," she said genuinely. "Thank you for doing this for me."

She threw some money down on the table from her pocket and said, "I actually have something for you. It's out in my car." She grabbed the file  
and got up. Now it was Peter's turn to be curious. He furrowed his brow and followed her outside.

He waited while she fiddled around in the back seat and finally turned around to face him. She handed him a small gun case. He looked at her  
questioningly.

"Open it," she said, with a smile on her face.

He cracked open the case to reveal a shiny new Glock.

"FBI standard issue. It's yours. You have an appointment at the shooting range tomorrow at 10:00 to get certified."

"Olivia...I don't know what to say..."

"I realized something while I was sitting in the hospital. I've been relying on you a lot more as we work on these cases together, and I trust you  
with my life. But James almost killed me and he could have just as easily killed you. And you need to be able to protect and be protected....And I'm  
sorry that I took off without you. After he shot me, I didn't think I was going to make it...but then you showed up..."

"Hey," Peter said tenderly as he lifted up one hand to caress her cheek with his thumb. "I know...I was scared too."

He took a moment longer to feel the soft skin of her face, to look deep into her now watery eyes as she tried to keep her emotions in check.  
She saw such care and concern in his face that calmness swept over her. He centered her. She let out the breath that she didn't even realize she  
was holding.

Peter reluctantly dropped his hand down from her face as she turned to open the driver's side door of her car.

"You gonna be okay?" he asked.

She nodded and smiled. "Yeah."

As long as I have you, she thought.

End


End file.
